


The Hidden Valley of Lilies

by SoulPhrase



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fantasy, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by Studio Ghibli, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 20:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20730617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoulPhrase/pseuds/SoulPhrase
Summary: Byleth finds a strange creature in the laundry room of his college dormitory. Caring for it leads his life through a course that he never could have imagined.Taking prompts in the comments to use in intermissions. Credits to COSU for the idea. See notes for more info.





	The Hidden Valley of Lilies

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is heavily inspired by (and wouldn't have happened without) COSU's work here: [https://twitter.com/guessibetter/status/1164760595561713664?s=21]
> 
> Was also motivated to do this to kick off Dimileth week's Day 1: Modern AU.

“Mmh…”

Byleth stifles a yawn, cursing himself for his misplaced judgement.

It’s exactly 2:30 in the morning, yet here he is. In the cold, stuffy laundry room. Not the way most students would spend their Friday evening—Saturday morning, if he had to be exact. But it had to be done. His fault for not paying attention and letting dirty clothes pile up for so long.

The stillness breaks when Byleth flips on the light switch, cheap lamps flickering overhead. The room is completely empty, naturally, with everyone else out partying or sleeping. As _normal_ people would at this hour.

Despite his initial grumbling, it didn’t bother Byleth _that _much. Few things ever did, making him an outlier in that regard. His tolerance for the abominable is always regarded more as a convenience than admirable, though. If there was a detested job that needed doing, he’d be the first person asked. That only scrapes the surface of his abnormalities, though.

He sighs, running fingers through his teal hair. Now isn’t the time to start feeling sorry for himself.

Byleth drags his feet over to the nearest machine, sack of dirty laundry slumped over his shoulder. Bleary-eyed, he squints at the note left taped to the lid of the washer.

_Out of order_… just his luck. He walks to another further down in the room.

Did he even bring enough cash? Reaching into his back pocket, his hands fumble with the change. Byleth swears when coins tumble out and scatter across the floor. He sets his laundry on top of the unused machine before squatting down, retrieving one grubby coin at a time.

_Three, four_… a good number of his coins are still missing.

Maybe some change fell behind the machines, too? Lowering his face to ground-level, he squints behind each washer. Lint, dust bunnies… the expected filth. It’s enough to make Byleth gag.

But among the mess, he makes out… something else.

Something unusual.

What he’d thought to be a trick of the light is actually a thick ball of fur, huddled against the wall behind a washer. Sooty, matted and overall riddled with grime, Byleth suspects it’s some kind of street mammal. A raccoon or possum, if he had to guess from its size.

Realizing it’s been spotted, the creature wriggles to face him. Its tiny form puffs out and a single eye stares him down, dilating. Ivory fangs peek out beneath the mess of hair, chuffing and scooting itself further back into the dark corner.

_Beyond_ terrified.

“Hey,” Byleth whispers. “It’s okay, I’m not—“

A mangled paw swipes out, raking its ragged claws against the tiled floor in agitation. Byleth gulps, wiping sweat from his brow. Nothing good comes out of getting scratched by a feral animal; he has to be careful. His conscience won’t let him leave the poor thing behind, either. Pets aren’t allowed on campus, so it doesn’t belong to a student. And with an attitude like that, even the shelters wouldn’t treat this animal kindly.

Well, he should worry about that later. For now, his priority is evacuating it from the laundry room as soon as possible. Things could turn out _much_ worse if someone else discovers it here.

Stricken by an idea, Byleth scrambles out of the door and shuts it behind him to keep the beast inside.

Luckily, there’s a vending machine right outside the door. He pops in his spare change and watches the machine light up, churning out a bag of corn chips. It would have to do for now.

Putting his ear to the door to check if the creature’s waiting for him on the other side, Byleth creaks it open, slowly. Catching a little monster _definitely_ wasn’t how he expected the evening to turn, but he’s been through worse.

He shakes the bag of corn chips before sneaking inside, watching his feet in case the thing paws out from below. Byleth preferred to come out from this ordeal with his toes intact. His ears perk at low growling from the corner, right where the animal was lurking.

Pausing, Byleth rips open the bag and takes out a corn chip. He tosses it out and into the dark corner. The creature swipes in a flash, crushing the chip underneath. It sniffs its paw and laps the crumbs off as Byleth watches, eager for a response. Curious, it licks the remaining crumbs from floor with a small, grey tongue.

Success!

Byleth drops a neat line of corn chips between the washer and wall, creating a trail. He watches with bated breath when the furball follows, munching up one chip at a time. With it baited out in the open, Byleth takes his chance.

He grabs it by the scruff of its neck, or at least where the neck _should_ be on a mammal of its size, and hauls it from the ground. A shriek violates Byleth’s ears, the monster swiping madly at air and he’s forced to stretch out his arm to avoid being scratched.

Well, now what?

He _could_ just toss the thing outside, wipe his hands and be done with it. But what if it’s injured? He could picture discovering it the next day, lifeless body discarded in the bushes like trash. All because he’d refused to act when he had the chance.

…

Laundry could wait until morning. Against his better judgement, Byleth leaves his delicates behind with the howling animal in tow.

* * *

With some luck, the ball of fur stops hollering by the time Byleth returns to his room.

It takes a good half hour of holding the creature at arm’s length and offering chips in a truce for the beast _not_ to swipe at him anymore. A relief: but now his hand is cramping, and out of chips.

With the risk of getting nipped, Byleth lowers the monster to his bathroom floor and closes the door behind him. Might as well see if his roommate was woken up by the commotion.

Byleth halts at the sudden screech of claws against the wood behind him. Change of plans.

The man instead hurries to the kitchen to procure some more treats. He’s swift to chop up some leftover meat from the fridge and grab some necessities before racing back to the bathroom. Is _this_ how parents feel leaving their children unsupervised?

After rustling the meat in a plastic bag against the door, the scratching ceases. Byleth makes his way back into the bathroom, pleased that the creature is settling down. Growling and filled with energy, but much better than when they’d arrived.

He’d have a hard time explaining the ripped curtains and damaged floor, but that’s okay. Its bristles of fur flatten, tiny feet pattering in place. With the way its gibbous eye peers up at him, Byleth wagers that it even looks _elated_ to see him. If it had a tail, he could see it wagging too.

How about that? Maybe he should try dog training part-time.

Back to the matter at hand, the furball _really_ needs a bath. Its awful, rotten stench permeates his senses with the subtlety of a corpse. Byleth starts the water in his bathtub, dipping in a finger to check for warmth. Satisfied, Byleth leads the shivering creature into the tub. Its rumbling quiets down, relaxing into the bathwater—by the temperature or his excessive use of treats, Byleth isn’t sure which.

He ties on the apron and slips on some gloves that he’d brought in from the kitchen, gently lathering a dollop of his shampoo into the animal’s fur. Without warning, it skitters along the tub’s edge and chomps into the shampoo bottle, swinging its head with force. The container repeatedly bangs against the tub: helpless prey crushed by the jaws of its predator.

Groaning, Byleth drops a cube of meat into the tub to distract the tiny beast and retrieve his battered shampoo bottle. Liquid seeps out from the tooth-shaped punctures in its sides, and Byleth’s pretty sure he can’t come up with an excuse for _that._ He goes back to lathering, ready to jump back in case it lashes out again and go for the kill. It doesn’t, though the low groans and snorts it lets out do little to relieve Byleth’s unease.

With clumps of dirt washed out, Byleth observes that the creature is actually a pale shade of blond. Perhaps it’s a strange breed of dog, after all. Moving some of its fur aside to check for wounds, Byleth catches that the poor thing’s missing its right eye. How cruel. Wincing, he pats the animal’s sopping head. Opening up the tub’s drain, Byleth drapes a spare towel over the creature to dry it.

“Goddess, if you’re real, _please_ make sure nothing else gets eaten tonight,” Byleth grumbles under his breath.

By some miracle, his little friend leaves the towel alone through the entire ordeal. Turning on a hair dryer risked waking up Dedue, who seems like a pretty good guy. They don’t talk much, which could be why they both get along so well. Though with all the other nonsense that’d been taking place? To say that Dedue sleeps like a rock is an understatement.

Well, now the creature is as dry as Byleth could get it. But where could it stay until sunrise? Keeping it in the bathroom risked getting the door broken down and their soap, eaten. Dedue’s room is out of the question, obviously… leaving only one option.

His _own_ room.

The creature seems unusually attached to him now, likely from its voracious appetite. Knowing it’s so food-motivated does make handling it _much_ easier. Hoisting it up in his arms, Byleth brings the furball into his room.

He prays the animal won’t eat his homework and the like. Or worse, like maul him to death in his sleep. Byleth has a pretty good track record for keeping his room well-organized: one of the few things that beheld his genuine pride. 

Tonight would put that all to the test.

He wished that he had the strength to hold the beast until morning, but he was merely human. His body would succumb to hunger or sleep at some point. Maybe it’d chew off his arms to free itself first. Letting it loose in his room is to condemn his room’s cleanliness to an unfitting end, but it was inevitable.

Falling to the floor, the animal scampers throughout his room at a breakneck speed. From jumping on top of his desk, to over the walls and whirling circles between his legs. Good thing he’d just given it a bath, or he’d receive true hell from the GMU faculty for this.

The beast finally settles for burrowing itself under his bed, nearly toppling it over with momentum. Byleth can tell, since the thing won’t stop growling and scuttling down there for whatever reason. At least it gives him the chance to clean up some of the mess. He fishes some blankets out from his closet and drops them on the floor to make a bedding. Maybe a pillow or two would be nice, too.

He turns to retrieve one from his bed, but it looks like that isn’t necessary anymore. Plopped right on his favorite side of the bed is the furball, bunched up in his sheets. Eye shut, breaths slackened and low. Its maw hangs open, leaving a steady trail of drool into his bedding. Sound asleep.

Byleth scratches his chin. How’d that happen?

Regardless, he doesn’t want to bother the thing when it looks so comfortable. Sleeping on the floor is an option, but the day’s fatigue catches up to him _fast_. His body moves on its own, pulling Byleth to the other side of his bed. He topples over face-first into a pillow, drifting off to slumber.

* * *

Byleth wakes to the sound of birds chirping outside, though his heavy eyelids refuse to open.

Staying up so late is an awful habit that he needs to crack, and soon. The events of the previous night come to him in a blur, as though coming out from a dream. Of the strange creature he’d discovered in the laundry room, how he’d bathed it before permitting it to sleep in his room.

By now, that rascal was up to some nonsense again. Tearing up his blankets, eating the fluff from his pillows… whatever the case, he’d clean it up later. Right now, his bed is too warm and inviting for Byleth to want to leave.

That’s right. The delicate heat is nearly enough to lull Byleth back into the pleasant embrace of sleep. Heavier than usual, even a bit sweaty, but welcoming all the same.

…

_Sweaty?_

Byleth almost screams when he forces his eyes open, though no sound leaves his gaping mouth. Like a fish out of water, desperately gasping in air.

A thick, hulking arm is slouched over his chest and around his shoulder, taut muscles covered in scars. Nestled into his neck is a bush of golden hair, muffled snoring underneath. Byleth couldn’t see their face at this angle, but there was no mistaking it.

There’s a _man_ in his bed.

A muscular, sweaty and scorching hot man.

_Holy shit_.

_Shit_.

Shit, shit! If one of the faculty caught him like this now, there’s no doubt he would get expelled. He had heard horror stories about the Dean who punishes students for _much_ less.

With all the force he can muster, Byleth pushes up against the man’s arm to throw him off. All to no avail, and the blond doesn’t budge an inch. He gives a hearty yawn next to Byleth’s ear, burrowing himself deeper into the sheets and the student trapped beneath his weight.

Mortified, Byleth comes to a realization. Not only are the man’s arms entirely bare, but his neck-down feels like skin as well. In the helpless flailing of his arms, Byleth confirms that _he_ at least is not nude. That ruled out Dedue slipping something twisted into his coffee last night, uncharacteristic and impossible as that already was. But what _else_ is such a large, attractive man doing with him in bed? He was sure to lock all of the doors last night…

Come to think of it, even if _he_ is at least clothed… what about the man slumped against him? He didn’t really want to find out.

A heavy, naked thigh entwines itself with Byleth’s own to answer his unspoken question.

…

_He has no pants, and I must scream._

_Goddess,_ _kill me now_. 

Perhaps Byleth could just lie here. Let starvation take its course in the arms of a hunky male. It wasn’t perfect, but his life was nice while it had lasted.

Oh, what in the world is he thinking? The man has to wake up at _some_ point, but his victim preferred sooner than later. Byleth grips the bulky shoulder to jostle him awake.

“Hey,” Byleth grunts.

His throat is dry, lungs heavy from the sheer weight of this man pressing on his chest, weakening his voice.

“Hey! Wake up, please?”

He feels grumbling against the crook of his neck before the blond turns his head to face him. Byleth’s gaze drifts over his features to soak him in. His tousled yet brilliant mop of hair, the soft and icy shade of his eye. His sculpted jawline, those _tender lips, his—_

Okay, so the man’s _actually_ gorgeous.

But being pretty has never been an excuse for sneaking into someone else’s room. He couldn’t have climbed in through the window unnoticed like… _that._ Looking at him again, the man only has one eye: his other is scratched out beyond use. His hair is blond and soft, almost like…

No, it couldn’t be.

Byleth jerks his head to look around the room as much as he’s able to, given his restricted movement. His furry friend is nowhere to be seen, or heard. Escape was impossible, seeing as the window and his door look intact. It doesn’t take much for Byleth to connect the dots from there, but it still felt too whimsical to be true.

A callback to tales of the frog prince, even. Though in his case, more like a dirty dog.

Ludicrous as this all is, no speculation could change that a handsome man is cradling Byleth in his arms. Funnily enough, the blond looks just as lost as he is with his vacant stare. Okay, maybe he _could_ humor the idea of that little beast transforming into a fairytale prince overnight a little longer. But first, he wanted some answers. 

“So, uh… you _are_ that thing I rescued last night, aren’t you?”

No response.

“Can you move, at least? _Please?_”

Again, no dice. Just a tilt of his head, accompanied by some slow blinking. Does he not know English? Maybe he’s deaf? With the pitiful amount of space Byleth has to work with, he swerves his hand to gesture ‘hello.

Completely deadpan, the blond drops his head back down into Byleth’s shoulder. Byleth would roll his eyes if not for the immense dread bubbling in his aching spine.

Is an animal brain stuck in that skull, too? Goddess forbid the way he’ll finally climb off is through treats. Feeding a grown man cubes of meat in his bed… could the day _possibly_ get any worse?

Well, Byleth couldn’t reach the bag of snacks even if he tried. He has nothing left to do but heckle the man awake. He lifts his head like before, though the two men lock eyes this time.

“Move,” Byleth murmurs again, more gently this time. He nudges against the arm draped over his chest as he speaks.

“Please.”

By the Goddesses’ graces his message _finally_ gets across, the hulking arm pulling back to the man’s side. Byleth takes the opportunity to leap out of his bed while he can, lest he risk getting pinned down again by mistake. Free from the handsome prince’s clutches he may be, but there is still a glaring issue at hand.

The man in his bed is stark naked.

Even from a glance, Byleth knows none of his clothes would fit. His muscles are too pronounced to fit in any of Byleth’s shirts, and that’s just going off of what he could see of this man’s chest. Anything further south, and…

Well. The very least he could do is give the man some underwear. He’d offer a towel, but what if he’d never worn a towel before? What if he tries to _eat_ it?

A solution comes to mind. Byleth doesn’t like it, but it’s the best he’s got. Pacing out the door, he makes a beeline for his destination. A thief staking out his plunder, Byleth checks for possible witnesses to his crime.

“I’ll return them washed,” Byleth whispers to no one but himself. He prowls back into his room, pilfered boxer briefs in tow. 

“Hey, I’m—“

Byleth announces his return to the beautiful man, no longer sleeping. Instead, he’s lying on his stomach with the formerly-concealed bag of meat cubes in hand. He snacks on them like candy, completely unashamed at being caught in the act. From his hardened shoulders to firm derriere, the expanse of his back is exposed to the open air. In full view of an unsuspecting Byleth.

At this angle, Byleth can even catch a peek of his…

_Okay_, _okay_. Byleth tosses the briefs he’d stolen from Dedue’s room over to the man, averting his eyes when they’re caught. He even shields his face with his hands to be certain. If he had to help the man through this, too, Byleth might _actually_ die.

Good thing Dedue is out doing volunteer work and unable to witness this madness. The guy really deserved better; he’d have to make it up to his roommate whenever this situation gets sorted out.

The rustling of fabric fills Byleth with some hope, though he can hardly muster up the willpower to actually turn and look. To his surprise, the man clears his throat as if to signal that it’s okay to look. Byleth obliges, peeking through the cracks between his fingers.

Thankfully he’s wearing them properly: bigger than what’s _supposed_ to be his underwear size, but that’s more than Byleth could ask for at this point. No matter how small—or _large_—a victory is a victory. The navy blue of the undergarment even compliments his form quite nicely.

Boxers aside he’s practically standing in the nude, revealing his beautifully toned features in full glory. It takes all the will he can muster for Byleth not to stare at those majestic pecs. The countless scars that litter his skin leave Byleth wondering, though. He’d never seen anything like it, even from Dedue who’d endured his unfair share of violence.

The worst of it all is the man’s missing eye, gored out in what Byleth could only assume had been a tragic accident. A scarred eyelid hangs shut over what should be there. Byleth retreats to the bathroom in search of a bandage to place over the injured eye. It looks beyond healing, but covering it up was the least he could do.

No luck. He’d have to go out and buy a box, later. 

With that option revoked, what to do next? Byleth isn’t familiar enough with children’s stories of fantasy worlds and mythical creatures to know how they handled these circumstances. Given their language barrier, there isn’t much for the two to do at all. Tackling that seemed the best course of action.

Despite being a ravenous beast only hours ago, this man had the tact to dress himself and not bare his privates to another. Gluttonous, but not brainless. Is he literate? Perhaps, but what if his knowledge is limited to an ancient and forgotten language? Could he even speak in human tongue if he’d been an animal from the beginning? There is _much_ to consider here.

To initiate some progress, he dusts off a book from his shelf discussing the top hundred languages known today. If this doesn’t get them anywhere, then he’ll search online for options.

Byleth plants himself on his bedside, patting the area next to him. His invitation is accepted, bed caving under the man’s density when he sits. Their arms brush and Byleth jolts, scooting away from the gentle touch. Slouching, the man watches Byleth expectantly.

Wetting a finger on his tongue, Byleth flips through the introductory pages. He hadn’t responded earlier, but there is still a chance this man speaks English. If not, he has ninety-nine more languages to pick from. Might as well give it the old college try.

“Hello,” Byleth declares, sure to annunciate each syllable as he speaks. He offers an open hand.

“My name is Byleth. It is nice to meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter has Dimitri mostly being confused (and also a dog) but it was a joy to write. 
> 
> While I have an idea of the story I want to flesh out in this AU, I thought it would be fun to open up the possibilities through comments. Given the setting, there's a lot of potential shenanigans to be had. I can't promise taking every prompt to incorporate for an intermission, but don't let that discourage you from sharing. Cheers!


End file.
